


Beasts of the Field

by callous_and_misunderstood



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Gil is a Ray of Sunshine (Disney: Descendants), Multi, Sweet Gil (Disney: Descendants), i love gil and i want him to be happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callous_and_misunderstood/pseuds/callous_and_misunderstood
Summary: Gil knew he wasn’t one of the smartest kids on the Isle. Or one of the meanest, or toughest, or quickest. And he knew he definitely wasn’t the most evil.But he didn’t mind. Gil preferred to leave people alone unless he absolutely had to intervene, or to defend himself. While that made many people think he was weak and useless, he had stuck around long enough to become his own person. That was rare on the Isle, and Gil wouldn’t give it up for anything.
Relationships: Evie & Jay & Mal & Carlos de Vil, Gil & Carlos de Vil, Gil/Carlos de Vil, Gil/Harry Hook/Uma, Harry Hook/Jay, Mal/Uma (Disney)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	1. Gaston the Fourth Becomes Gil, or, G I V is written as G I L

The first day of school changed Gaston IV’s life, at least a little bit.

Gaston had dropped off his youngest son, Gaston the Fourth, and left without so much a goodbye. Gaston IV was used to such dismissal from his father, though he wished he would have remembered to pay attention to the route home. He was younger than what the school preferred as a starting age, but no one would ever check into it. It’s not like the Isle handed out birth certificates. The teacher had just nodded when Gaston wrote down Gaston IV’s name on the registry and shooed him into the classroom.

He was unsettled by the number of other children running around the small room. He had spent pretty much his whole life up until this point with only a few other people and wasn’t sure how to proceed. Gaston IV knew that he had to play with the other kids in order to get them to leave him alone. His older brothers taught him that much. If he did what they wanted they wouldn’t beat him up. Simple as that. But how to start the process was a mystery.

So Gaston IV stood, watching the other kids tumble around. He needed to find the strongest, like his Dad and brothers. The easiest way to do that was to find the kid who won the fight. So far, all the kids were just brawling, with no clear victor.

Gaston IV scanned the classroom again. A white-haired boy sat in a corner, reading a book. He looked like was actually reading it, too, which none of the four Gastons could do. Gaston IV immediately forgot about looking for the strongest kid and wandered over to the reading boy.

“Hi,” Gaston IV said.

The white-haired boy looked up, surprised. He had dark brown eyes and so,so many freckles.

“Hi,” the boy said back after a long moment. He seemed wary of Gaston IV, so Gaston IV gently sat next to the boy. The boy didn’t move away and after a pause, looked back at the book.

“What is that?” Gaston IV pointed at the book in the boy’s lap. It was beat up and missing pages, but the boy was still reading it so it must be important.

“It’s an atlas,” the other boy said.

“What?”

“A book of maps.”

“Ohhh. What kind of maps?”

“Well, the only ones left are ones of Auradon before the union.”

Gaston IV blinked at the boy blankly.

“Auradon?”

“You know, the place across the sea. The mainland.”

Still, nothing.

“Where the barges come from.”

Gaston IV’s face lit up. He knew they had to come from somewhere.

“Auradon,” he whispered. It sounded strange in his mouth; the way food tasted when he snuck it from his dad’s personal stash.

The other boy nodded, looking back at the book. He pointed at a jumble of letters on the picture.

“That’s the capital city. That’s where all the kings and queen live.”

Gaston IV tilted his head. He thought everywhere was a free for all, and royalty didn’t matter. That’s what his dad told him all the time, especially when they went to the market and another adult was acting fancy. Gaston always snarled at the adults “who put on airs…their royal blood did nothing here, made them no better than anyone else”.

“It’s not like here,” the other boy said, reading Gaston IV’s expression. “It’s…better.”

“Better how?”

“Well, they have fresh food.”

Gaston IV scoffed. He knew food was supposed to be slightly green and smelly.

“It’s true! Ask your parents. My mother tells me all about it.”

The other boy paused, taking in Gaston IV again.

“Who are you?”

“Oh! I’m Gaston the fourth!”

The boy laughed a little at that.

“Four Gastons? Wow.”

“Well, who are you?” Gaston IV asked, feeling defensive of his family.

“Carlos De Vil, son of Cruella De Vil.”

Gaston IV had heard about Cruella, sort of.

“The dog lady?”

Carlos laughed again, this time not as nicely.

“Yeah, I guess she is.”

“I’ve never seen a dog,” Gaston IV said thoughtfully.

“Mom says they’re mean.”

“I’m sure they must be.”

Carlos looked at Gaston IV once more. Gaston IV felt like he was being tested by Carlos just looking at him, so he froze and didn’t move until Carlos went back to his map book.

Gaston IV sat with Carlos, listening to whatever Carlos pointed out in his book. The other kids calmed down then ramped up and then calmed down again. Gaston IV wasn’t interested in what they were doing though. He was interested in Carlos.

Before the end of the day Carlos had discarded the map book and was looking at the other kids. Gaston IV did too. Their teacher had absolutely no interested in monitoring the children’s activities, so the fighting had been ongoing, though now it had broken into smaller groups. There was a purple haired girl who kept winning fights, except when she fought a turquoise haired girl. And there were two brown haired boys, one with long and one with short hair, who kept tussling, with no clear winner.

Carlos got bored watching the fighting before long and wandered off. Gaston IV didn’t move, not sure whether to follow the white-haired boy or try and join the others. Before he could decide, Carlos came back. He was holding a pink crayon and a blank paper. He set it down in front of them and used the crayon to draw some letters.

“What’s that?”

“My name. C-A-R-L-O-S.”

Carlos pointed to each letter as he said it. Gaston IV looked at the letters intently. They were all different, but he didn’t quite understand how they made Carlos’s name. But Carlos said that is what it was, and he believed Carlos.

“Do you know how to write your name?”

Gaston IV thought for a moment, then nodded eagerly, hoping to please Carlos. He had seen his dad scrawl out Gaston IV’s name on the kindergarten registry that morning. He remembered the shapes of the letters. Mostly.

“Okay,” Carlos gestured to the crayon and scrap of paper he had found. “Write.”

Sticking his tongue out with concentration, Gaston IV slowly formed the shapes he remembered. His hand trembled the whole time, but he finally wrote out his name in the bright pink wax.

“G…I…L…,” Carlos read back to him, holding the scrap paper carefully. “Gil?”

Gaston IV frowned, upset that he hadn’t written his name. He was sure that he had drawn what he saw his dad do earlier.

“Gil,” Carlos said, grinning. “That’s a better name for you than Gaston the fourth.”

Gaston IV blushed, looking down at the shapes on the paper. Gil. That sounded better than being the fourth of something. Gil. He could be Gil.

“I like that,” Gil said, smiling at Carlos.


	2. Gil Goes to Hell Hall

The first day Carlos wasn’t in school, Gil assumed he was sick. Lots of kids got sick and stayed home, his brothers did it all the time, even though they usually weren’t actually sick. But on day three of Carlos being absent, Gil got a little worried. It also wasn’t uncommon for Isle kids to stay home after a particularly rough round with their parents. He had seen that Jay kid slipping around the market with a black eye but not be in school that day. But Gil would rather Carlos be sick and not too beat up to come to school.

After the final bell rang, Gil took an extra copy of the homework from their teacher and headed to Hell Hall. He had never actually been there, at Carlos’s insistence. Carlos swore Cruella was worse than the devil, but Gil figured the Isle was full of devils. What was one more?

Hell Hall was easy to find. It sat alone at the very edge of the town, monstrously large. It was not as intimidating as Bargain Castle, Maleficient’s home, but Gil still shivered as he approached. The metal gates hung off the hinges enough for Gil to slip through and cross the dead foliage that covered the yard. Maybe on Auradon the yard would have been bright green grass, but since it was the Isle, it was just grey and brown. His boots crunched slightly as he reached the steps, and he looked down to see broken glass scattered across the first step.

Gil looked up at the building. It was no more than three stories, with the roof caved in enough to make it probably only functionally two. All of the windows were intact, though they were all closed tightly. In fact, Gil realized, Hell Hall was kind of… clean. That was not what he had expected.

Gil went up to the front door, noting that none of the boards creaked or gave out under his weight. He raised his hand and gave a quick knock.

“Comin’, comin’,” a gruff voice called from inside. It was male but not Carlos’s voice. Gil didn’t know he lived with anyone besides his mom. Did Carlos have a brother?

The door swung open and a middle aged man stood in the doorway. He was heavy browed and balding, but puffed himself up when he saw Gil in an attempt to appear more powerful. Gil gave him a disarming smile, knowing he could knock the man out with one blow.

“And ‘ho’re you?” the thick accent came out slurred.

“I’m a…classmate of Carlos’s,” Gil said, remembering that Isle kids don’t have _friends_.

“Oy, and why’re you here?”

“I have his school work.”

“Can’t have the laddie falling behind in school, now can we,” the older man sneered.

From behind him, in the dark of the mansion, called a voice that could have once been seductive but was now just a bit more pleasant than a grating cough.

“Who’s there Horace?”

“Kid who knows Carlos,” the man, Horace, called back.

Ah, that must be Cruella, Gil thought.

“Hello, Ms. De Vil,” Gil called out to her.

“Let the boy in, Horace.”

Horace grumbled under his breath but stood aside so Gil could enter Hell Hall.

Gil was immediately impressed with the place. The black and white marble floors were gleaming despite their obvious age and art pieces hung on the walls in golden frames. Horace directed Gil to a room filled with plush red furniture, smelling heavily of cigarette smoke.

Cruella herself was lounging on a couch, wearing tight black pants and a fur vest, though from which animal the fur came Gil couldn’t tell. Her black and white hair was curled evenly. Her eyes were cold and dark, and her cheekbones jutted out despite her overall well-fed appearance. She clutched a cigarette holder in one hand and held out the other to Gil.

Gil paused, then went and did what his father insisted was the only way to get a girl of a higher class to not hate you; he kissed her fingertips lightly and immediately backed away with a compliment.

“Your home is beautiful, Ms. DeVil,” Gil said.

Gaston evidently knew what he was talking about as Cruella beamed at the praise.

“Oh, isn’t it? Oh we had so much trouble finding anything worthwhile to keep around here, but we managed, haven’t we?”

She didn’t seem to want a real response so Gil kept quiet as she took a deep drag of her cigarette.

“Gil?”

Cruella let the smoke billow out of her mouth as she and Gil turned towards the voice. Carlos stood in the door way, holding a bucket and a mop. He didn’t seem to be sick, and wasn’t sporting any obvious injuries. Gil let out a breath of relief. Carlos was okay.

“What are you doing here?”

“Gil? Hmm,” Cruella asked, turning back to Gil. “Who’re your parents?”

“Uh, Gaston is my father, ma’am…and I’m just here to give Carlos his homework.”

“Gaston….” Cruella seemed to take a step back from reality. She took another inhale on her cigarette and waved dismissively at the two boys. Carlos jerked his head for Gil to follow him out of the room. Gil gave a little half bow as he left, though Cruella didn’t notice. She was staring at the smoke swirling around her absently.

“Gil, you didn’t need to come,” Carlos hissed as he led him further into Hell Hall. He pushed open a door and Gil found himself in a spotless kitchen.

Gil stood agape at the lack of mold growing in the corners as Carlos dumped the bucket of water he had been carrying into the sink. Carlos then turned and crossed his arms, looking at Gil intently.

“Why are you really here, Gil?”

Gil shifted from foot to foot. He hadn’t really thought about how Carlos would react to him showing up at Hell Hall, especially after Carlos’s repeated warnings to never come. He was just more worried that Carlos was okay.

“I…was just worried. You don’t miss school. Like, ever.”

Carlos sighed, and uncrossed his arms. He gave Gil a fond smile.

“You’re right, I don’t like missing school. But Mom said I needed to get the house sparkling, and it took longer than I thought it would.”

Gil gaped.

“You’re the reason this place is so clean? Really?”

Carlos shrugged.

“I’m more like a maid than a son,” he muttered, so quietly Gil barely heard it.

Gil frowned at that, but didn’t press.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Hopefully,” Carlos said. “Did you really bring me homework though?”

“Of course!”

Gil dug out the extra work from his bag and passed it to him. Carlos’s face lit up when he saw the pages. Gil chuckled a little. Carlos was truly the only person he knew who was excited about homework. Carlos looked up at Gil’s laugh, and blushed bright red. But he smiled back, knowing Gil meant his teasing in kindness.

The two of them stuck together at school, though Carlos usually dashed home right after classes. But during the day, they were an allied front. Carlos was smart, and learned things quickly, which gave him time to help Gil. Gil couldn’t figure out how Carlos was so very smart and he was so very dumb, but he didn’t mind. Carlos never made fun of him for having to sound out words or for using his fingers to count. And in return Gil never hesitated to use his physical brawn to get the other kids to stop picking on Carlos.

“You should get out of here,” Carlos said softly.

As much as Gil wanted to stay he knew he had already pushed his luck by showing up in the first place. Carlos had his life outside of school, a life Gil wasn’t a part of. And that was okay. The Isle wasn’t a friendly place, and Gil knew that he was lucky to have Carlos during school. 

“Okay. See you soon, yeah?”

Carlos nodded, and led Gil out of Hell Hall. Cruella was still staring into space when he left, Carlos locking the door behind him with a hearty _thunk_.

It was later evening now. The sun was setting behind the heavy Isle gloom, casting things in a murky yellow. Gil began his walk home, making sure to stay alert. Most of the Isle left him alone, mainly because of his father, but you never knew when someone was a little more desperate than normal.

He reached the marketplace without running into anyone. Then, his stomach began to grumble. Gil sighed, pausing to think. It was too late to fight for portions at his house. The other Gastons ate meals by fighting until the platters were empty, which meant you had to be prompt. Gil glanced around the marketplace. The only places open were Jafar’s junk shop and a few other bazaars. The market only had food first thing in the morning, when the barges rolled in. That left Gil the only option of heading down to the docks, and hoping Ursula’s chip shop was still open. 

He changed course and flipped his collar up a bit more. He rarely went to the docks alone, unless his father had sent him to dig through the barges. Pirates were more…unpredictable than other villains on the Isle. In fact, Gil wondered often if they were even meant to be on the Isle, given to how community oriented they tended to be. But then he remembered the pirate kids who bothered coming to class. They were as bad as the rest of them.

The docks were as gloomy as the Isle, but at least Gil could see the sky as he reached where land met water. It didn’t seem like there were any stars out, but Carlos had told him that the barrier prevented them from being seen most of the time, unless they were very bright. Carlos talked about going beyond the barrier a lot. Gil hoped that if they ever did, he would be able to see the stars.


	3. Gil Gets an Offer

Ursula’s chip and fish shop was open, to Gil’s stomach’s relief. There was warm light and rowdy laughter spilling from the windows. It felt like the inverse of where Gil had just come from.

Slowly, he approached, keeping his eyes low. The pirate stationed at the door gave him a quick once over, then shrugged. Gil pushed open the door and went inside.

The smell of fish was overpowering. Gil held down a gag as he fully entered the shop. A few pirates gave him a look as he made his way to an empty table in the corner, but left him alone. The table was greasy from previous users and the legs of the chair were crooked. Gil found the place charming. It was warm, and a TV played in the corner, showing the only channel the Isle got: Auradon news. Gil watched for a second, before someone blocked his view.

“What are you doing here?”

It was a girl Gil had seen at school, the one with the turquoise hair in tightly woven braids. She stood in an aggressive stance, like she was waiting for Gil to spring a trap on her.

“Um, I’m just here to eat,” Gil said quickly.

“Huh,” she scoffed. “Can you pay?”

Gil dug into his side pouch and pulled out a few coins.

“Whatever this will get me?”

The girl nodded, pleased. She took the coins and went back to the kitchen. A few moments later she reappeared with a steaming plate of fried fish and greasy fries. She set it in front of Gil, looked around, then took the seat across from him.

Gil hesitated. Did she want something else, or could he just…eat?

“Go ahead,” the girl gestured at the plate. “Just taking a break from work.”

Gil immediately dug into the food. It was definitely the best food he’d had in a while, mainly because it was so greasy. It covered up any mold or aged tastes that most of the Isle’s food usually carried.

The girl waited, watching him eat. Then she spoke again.

“I’ve seen you at school.”

Gil nodded, his mouth full of fries.

“You’re one of Gaston’s. The fourth, if I counted right.”

Gil nodded again.

“I go by Gil though,” he said wiping his hand on his pants. He held out his hand to shake hers. Raising an eyebrow, she shook his hand.

“Uma, daughter of Ursula.”

“Oh, that’s why you work here.”

Uma chuckled.

“Nothing like using your own kid for child labor.”

Gil smiled at that. She was funny, this Uma.

“You hang around with that De Vil kid, don’t ya?”

“Yeah,” Gil said, taking another bite of his food. At the mention of Carlos, his guard went back up.

“Huh. Interesting alliance.”

Gil shrugged. He knew what he got out of his closeness with Carlos. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. His brothers had tried to beat an answer out of him, but Carlos was his own person, just as much as Gil was. Their friendship—or alliance—was between them. Carlos called it ‘trusting each other’.

“But that’s only at school, isn’t it?”

Gil paused, looking at Uma. Her eyes were open, honest. But that meant she was planning something. Like everyone and everything on the Isle, nothing was what it was at face value.

Gil swallowed, shrugging noncommittally in response to her question. He didn’t know what Uma wanted, but he also felt inclined to at least hear her out. He liked her bluntness, even if she was just building up to something.

“What do you do after school?”

Again, Gil shrugged. He honestly didn’t do much. He tried to do homework but usually ended up running meaningless errands for his dad or avoiding his brothers. But he wouldn’t give that up if it meant being Uma’s errand boy instead.

Uma sighed at his non-answers.

“I’ll cut to the chase. I’m looking to build a crew.”

“For a ship?”

“Yes, for my ship.”

“Where can you go?”

Uma sighed in amusement. “It doesn’t matter where we can go. What matters is that I want to claim my turf.”

“Oh,” Gil said. He was very unaware that people had ‘turf’. “What’s your turf?”

Uma grinned proudly, leaning back in the chair.

“Right now, I’ve got from the docks to Dragon Hall.”

“That’s a lot of space.”

“Right, which is why I need a crew.”

“But, if you already have your turf…”

Gil was trying to figure out what was going on. As he had grown up, he had noticed certain kids staying together more than others, but had assumed they were friends. Like Jafar’s son hanging out with Maleficent’s daughter all the time—friends. Sounds like it was more along the lines of a gang than a friendship. That was how the Isle worked, though.

“I need to keep it, is the thing, Gil,” Uma said, leaning towards him. “I’ve got some competition, and I don’t like losing.”

“No villain does,” Gil said offhandedly.

Uma cackled at that. “Exactly, Gil. Which is why I want you on my crew.”

“I’ll…think about it,” Gil offered. He wasn’t sure what he would be agreeing to if he said yes, but also knew Uma wasn’t the kind of person who would take no for an answer.

Uma stood up, taking his empty plate.

“Don’t think too long,” she smirked.

Gil nodded, and Uma left him alone at the table. Gil sat for a long moment, basking in the warmth of the shop before heading home. The smartest thing to do would be to ask Carlos what to do. He just hoped Carlos would be in school tomorrow.


End file.
